Concussion
by Bellatlas
Summary: Zeb hadn't meant to hurt Ezra, really! Nevertheless, he's left having to take care of him.


Zeb hadn't meant to hurt Ezra; of course he hadn't.

They had both been working in the engine room while everyone else was out getting supplies when they had gotten into one of their usual small spats. But, that small spat had escalated rather quickly to a large spat, and when Ezra decided to make a smart comment about Lasan, well, that was the last straw.

Zeb whirled around and smashed a fist into the wall in anger, which, while it would earn a stern lecture from either Kanan or Hera (or likely both), was an innocent enough move.

He did _not,_ however, expect the impact from said punch to knock down a loose beam (or maybe it was a pipe? Figuring out which wasn't exactly near the top of the priority list in that moment), which immediately fell down and smashed right into Ezra's head.

Ezra promptly collapsed on the floor, unconscious, which would lead to Zeb's current situation.

"Ezra? Kid!" Zeb kneels down next to Ezra, shaking his shoulders slightly. He doesn't budge. "Karabast," he curses under his breath.

It's then that he thinks to look for breathing… he hadn't actually… had he? No, there's still a steady slow rise and fall of Ezra's chest.

"Come on, kid," Zeb urges again, tapping his roommate on the shoulder. It takes another four excruciating minutes of Zeb hovering over Ezra, gently shaking him, before Ezra finally blinks his bleary eyes open, squinting as if the dark engine room is too bright.

Zeb lets out a relieved sigh. "You okay?"

"What?" Ezra asks drowsily, propping himself up on his elbows to look around, looking utterly confused.

" _Are you okay,"_ Zep repeats, emphasizing each word slowly.

"Yeah." Ezra pushes himself forward onto his knees, but doesn't attempt to stand up yet. "What happened?" he asks, reaching up touch the sore spot on his head and sucking in a breath when his fingers actually make contact with it, coming away sticky and red.

"You don't remember?" Zeb asks, large brows furrowing at the implications.

"Not… really," Ezra winces, still seeming to be riding out the wave of pain from his scalp. "I remember we were in the engine room… what the heck happened to my head?"

"A piece of metal fell on it," Zeb replies curtly.

"It just fell?"

Zeb groans internally, half wondering if the kid remembers everything and just wants to embarrass him by making him admit that he caused all this. "I… _may_ have punched the wall," he cedes, looking to his left awkwardly.

"Punched the wall?" Ezra looks up at him incredulously, still squinting. "What are you doing?" he asks when Zeb continues to stare intently at him without responding to his previous question.

"Your pupils are different sizes."

"What?"

"You have a concussion- and a bad one at that. C'mon, we'd better get 'ya to the medbay."

"No, no, I'm fine, let's just finish working on the engine before everyone gets back." Ezra grabs at the wall and starts to pull himself to his feet, earning an exasperated sigh from his roommate, who does _not_ have time nor patience for Ezra's stubbornness today.

"If 'yer not gonna come willingly, then I'm just going to pick you up and carry you," Zeb threatens. He means it, too. He may still be mad at the little runt, but he won't have him hurting himself even further by continuing to work on the engine, either.

"No, no, no! I can walk; I'll go!" Ezra frantically pulls himself to his feet, swaying dangerously and steadying himself with a hand against the wall.

"You _sure_ you can walk?" For once, there's no teasing, sarcastic edge in Zeb's voice. He's truly starting to worry now.

"Yeah, yeah." Ezra takes his free hand, the one not currently on the wall to support himself, and waves Zeb off, successfully taking a step without falling flat on his face. However, it's quite clear that he's still struggling just to stay upright, and he stumbles on the next step.

Zeb reaches out a large hand, placing it on Ezra's shoulder to keep him from falling, and thinks it's best if he keeps it there, lest the boy fall and hurt his head yet again.

After Ezra exhausts some of his energy climbing up the short ladder out of the engine room, Zeb finds him start to lean a little more weight into his hand, shaking now, seeming to need the support to continue standing.

"If you can't walk, then I really can just ca-"

"I'm fine, really," Ezra cuts him off. "Just a little dizzy is all. I've had worse."

Zeb grimaces, still debating as to whether or not to just pick Ezra up and put him in the medbay himself. It's not something he wants to do- it would be awfully awkward for both of them (more so Ezra, which would be a plus), but this is taking forever and Ezra looks exhausted now. He figures it would take longer to get Ezra to stop struggling so he could carry him than it would to just let him walk, though, and lets him continue on to the medbay himself.

"Ah-" Zeb looks around after Ezra pulls himself up onto one of the tables, not quite sure what to do. "Think you could clean that?" he asks, gesturing to the gash on Ezra's head and tossing him a package of antiseptic wipes. "I'll go get 'ya a bag of ice to put on it."

Ezra nods wordlessly and reaches for the package as Zeb leaves the room, the ice only taking but a moment to get. When he comes back in, Ezra is pawing at one of his ears, as if there's water stuck in it.

"'Yer ears bothering you now, too?"

"No. They're just ringing really badly."

Wow. Ezra really does have _all_ of the worst concussion symptoms, doesn't he? Well, _most_ of them anyway.

"Sorry about that."

Ezra shrugs and slumps over.

"Er, you should probably get some rest now, you know," Zeb suggests, motioning for him to lay down.

Ezra looks up at him with a half annoyed, half mocking glint in his eyes. "Why don't you leave the mothering to Hera, alright?"

"Well _Hera_ isn't here, okay?" Zeb says with a curl of his lip. He doesn't really expect Ezra to listen, but the kid lays down in spite of himself, eyes slipping closed as exhaustion from the head injury finally takes over.

"Whoa, whoa, I didn't say fall asleep, now. We need you to stay awake."

"But I'm _tired,"_ Ezra whines, trying turn the other way and ignore Zeb.

"Yeah, concussions will do that to you, but you have to stay awake afterward."

Ezra groans, but rolls over onto his back anyway, eyes remaining open and pasted to the ceiling. He seems to start drifting off every few minutes before pulling himself back to consciousness before Zeb can shake him awake.

Suddenly Ezra turns over and pulls himself up.

"Kid, just lay down for a bit will 'ya?!" Zeb sighs, moving to push him back down. But, when Ezra claps a hand over his mouth, Zeb knows to move out of his way.

If Ezra was having trouble walking before, you'd never know by the looks of him bolting down the hall toward the fresher now.

Zeb stays put in the medbay. Ezra emptying the entirety of his stomach contents is not something that he particularly wants to see, and he's sure that Ezra doesn't exactly want an audience, either. It takes almost fifteen minutes before Ezra slogs back into the room, looking like death itself.

"Feel any better?" Zeb offers.

Ezra grunts something unintelligible before throwing himself back down onto the table. "Not really."

Zeb sits there awkwardly, wanting to be literally anywhere else. Why couldn't someone else have been here when this happened. Then again, if someone else had been with Ezra, this wouldn't have happened in the first place. "Do you, uh… do you need anything for your stomach?"

"No… You don't have to stay up here, you know. You can go back down to the engine room."

Zeb frowns. "Can't, actually." He'd like to, he really would, but if something else happens he needs to be here to monitor Ezra… plus, Hera would never forgive him for just leaving him alone in the medbay like this.

The room lapses into total silence, Ezra trying to stay awake, and Zeb uncomfortably trying to figure out what to do with himself.

"I'm sorry," Ezra says finally, suddenly breaking the silence.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Ezra repeats, propping himself up on his elbows. "About what I said about Lasan."

Zeb raises his eyebrows. He was still upset about it, sure, but he had thought that Ezra didn't remember saying that, didn't even remember the argument that led to it. He wasn't going to push the issue in that case, especially after seeing Ezra's condition. He doesn't even really remember how their fight started. Somehow they had gotten to talking about some upcoming mission on Lothal, one that Zeb thought was a lost cause they should give up on, much to Ezra's disagreement. When Zeb defended his point by recalling a similar situation where the Honor Guard decided against acting, Ezra had replied with a sharp 'well if you had actually _done_ something, maybe Lasan would still be around!'

Zeb slumps over, all the fight uncharacteristically leaving his body. "Don't worry about it. I may have overreacted a bit."

Ezra looks over at him, utterly shocked that he's being let off the hook. Still, he doesn't seem quite satisfied with Zeb's answer. "I just… I just want Lothal to be _okay._ That's all. I didn't mean anything by it."

It's such a simple sentence, but Zeb knows exactly what he means. He's been there himself. Ezra may be too young to have very many memories of Lothal before it started going downhill, but he still must have some, still must want it to be that way again. No matter where their crew decides to go in the future, Lothal will always be Ezra's homeland: the place where he was born, the place where he was with his parents, and the place where he once almost had a good life. You don't just up and forget a planet like that and leave it to its fate. Zeb would know. You fight for it (even if it leads to an ill-thought out comment every now and then).

"It will be, don't worry. One day, all of this will be sorted out."

"Thanks," Ezra says, turning on his side. "You'll have to tell me about Lasan one of these days."

Zeb perks up. "I could tell you about it now, if you want."

"Maybe later." Ezra winces and squeezes his eyes shut as he clearly begins to feel sick again and isn't up for any lengthy conversations at the moment.

Zeb leans back against the wall, a bit disappointed in spite of himself. He understands, though. Now isn't the time.

"I'm sorry, too, by the way… for, well, this." Zeb gestures to Ezra's whole body, splayed out on the medbay table unceremoniously.

"If you were really sorry, then you'd let me go to sleep," Ezra mumbles.

"No can do."

"Five minutes?" Ezra begs.

Zeb takes a moment to contemplate. Five minutes couldn't really do that much harm, could it? "Fine. But that's it, and when you wake up, you have to help me figure out what to tell Hera when she gets back."

"Deal."

* * *

 **Fun fact: you actually are not supposed to stay awake after getting a concussion anymore (however, Ezra needed to stay awake for the purpose of the story). People used to think that for bad concussions, you could prevent certain symptoms, like comas, by having the victim stay awake, but this turned out to be completely false, and sleep is actually good for helping the brain heal. However, without proper brain scanning, I believe having the victim staying awake is still useful for monitoring their condition if you don't know the extent of the brain damage.**

 **I am _completely_ new to everything Star Wars related and still catching up, so let me know if I made any errors. **

**If you have the time, reviews always mean the world! Thanks for reading!**


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